


Salute

by GirlWhoLovesMonsters



Series: Bateson (Slipping Away) [2]
Category: Marilyn Manson (Band)
Genre: Little, M/M, Spanking, daddy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 21:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12969081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlWhoLovesMonsters/pseuds/GirlWhoLovesMonsters
Summary: Marilyn is a brat, Tyler wants to put a stop to it. Well not really, but he wants to play with bratty Marilyn.





	Salute

Marilyn doesn't know what he does to me. His tight little ass in his tight little pants strutting around the stage like he owns the place. I guess he does. He does his little shimmy dance and it's adorable everyone loves it. Then those dirty words come out of that beautiful mouth and I'm overwhelmed with an urge to bend him over my knee and punish him. He toys with my guitar even though I always tell him not too. He's testing me, I know it. He crawls on his knees around the stage, touching himself, touching us, humping things like it's funny. He doesn't know I'm hiding my cock with my guitar. I bite my lip and focus on the music. Finally the show concludes and we hug off stage and all of us pat each other on the back before retreating to our respective places. Marilyn isn't even in his dressing room and cloths are flying everywhere. I'm sure he expects someone to pick them up, he is such a brat. 

His milky tattooed skin is beautiful in the dim lights of backstage. He disappears into his room. I disappear into mine. I think of all the things he's done this time, all the ways I could punish him, all the ways I could make that pretty painted mouth scream my name. If he knew how many times I've jerked myself off thinking about this, about how I could take him. He pranced around here like he's a big shot, I want to watch Mr. BigShot, Mr. Boss Man, crawl on his knees to me. Let me be the boss. You know what, fuck it. I'm going to go over there and do it. I bet he'd submit. He'd do anything I asked him too for a good fuck. He is such a little whore. I love this fucking bratty slut, and I'm going to make sure he knows whose boss when leaves that stage. After he's teased me all night, he can take what he's dealt.

I get up off of my couch and clean up. Throw on some street clothes and saunter over to his room.  
Tapping on door

"Yo? What's up?" Marilyn called out in his deep rolling, diluted with a slur. He made it through the show without touching the stuff. I'm proud of him for that, but he's definitely hit the pipe now. 

"It's me, can I come in?"

"Yeah man, doors unlocked." 

I walk in and Marilyn is butt naked standing in front of his mirror taking his make up off. "I thought you would be dressed by now." I stated simply. 

"No, smoked first, gotta shower." 

"We have a time limit you know." 

"I get done when I get done, it's alright."

"It's not alright Marilyn." I snapped. He turned to look at me, shocked. "The world does not revolve around you, despite what you may think."

"It always has." He protested, turning back to his mirror. 

"You look at me when I'm talking to you." He raised a brow and turned back around. He looked mildly amused. 

"Yes sir, Tyler sir!" He saluted.

"Don't be a brat, you're very spoiled. I have an idea of how we can take care of that."

"Um o-okay?" Marilyn stated confused. 

"Go get into the shower. I'll have your clothes for when you're done." 

He smirked challengingly. 

"Now, Brian."

"Oooo real names. Have I been bad daddy?" 

"Don't call me Daddy, unless you mean it." I quipped with a harshness in my voice. 

"What happens if I don't, get in the shower!" 

"You'll be punished."

He looked at me curiously. Those big eyes gleaming with mischief, what I love about him, those now lightly stained lips parted slightly like he wants to speak but doesn't.  He instead nods, as if he's gotten the message and walks away to the shower. That perfect ass bouncing as he walks. I traced his body with my eyes, there are things he doesn't like about himself, but I think he's perfect. I much prefer this older, more masculine, yet still pretty, more shapely man. He thinks he's gotten fat, people say this to him as if he isn't a person, just because he's famous. I want to punch them. I don't see those guys saying shit at the shows, or backstage. Not that Marilyn would hurt them, he wouldn't actually hardly hurt a fly. I've seen him open windows and doors to let them out instead of smashing them. He says their little lives are short enough, let them feel the sun. He only acts scary, though if challenged in a fight that he was allowed to fight, he'd kick someone's ass no doubt. Another thing I love about him. 

I hear the water turn on in the little shower of the dressing room. He's no doubt lined the bottom with plastic wrap to avoid stepping where other peoples filth has been. He’s such a particular weirdo. After a while the water turns off and he comes out. Dripping wet. My god, he looks like sin coated in heaven. His hair is clinging to his face, and water trickles down his body. His chest glistens in the light, and his tattoos seem brighter. He looks proud of himself dripping water all over the floor, making a mess. 

"Oops, I forgot my towel. Wanna give it to me?" Marilyn shrugged his shoulders like a bitch making me want to snatch him up and throw him over my knee right then. I refrain and throw him a towel. He tussles his hair first and dries his face. He slowly works down his body before wrapping the towel around his waist. I throw him another towel. He didn't expect that one. 

"I'm dry Tyler." 

"The floor isn't." 

"Dude, someone will get it."

"Yeah, you will. Clean it up."

"I.. You kn... uggfh whatever." He grumbled, then dropped to his knees mopping up the puddle and foot prints with the towel. He looked so good down there on his hands and knees. Occasionally glancing up at me with those beautiful eyes. He doesn't like being in trouble with anyone, I know it's actually bothering him a bit. He's a pleaser. He will want to be a good boy despite it all. He crawled down the short hall to the tiny shower, mopping it up. His thick thighs and beautiful perfect ass barely covered by the towel. I fought the urge the take his towel and leave a red handprint on it. He came back to the larger room. 

"There I'm done. I cleaned it up. Can I get dressed now." 

"I don't know, can you?" 

"Ugh, what are you the fucking grammar police too?"

"No. Watch your mouth. You sure said a lot of dirty words and inappropriate things up there. That pretty mouth is so dirty. Do we need to wash it out?"

"No!? May I please get dressed now! Tyler."

"Yes you may." 

"Asshole." He quipped pulling his jeans over his legs.  That was it. I couldn't hold it any more. So far he'd played along, now he was going to play by my rules.  
I grabbed his arm and sat down on the small couch pulling him with me. He came down easily, mostly in surprise. I pulled him over my knee and pushed his jeans down enough that his full ass and thighs were exposed. 

"Man, whoa! What are you doing?" He asked with concern but he didn't fight.

"You have to learn to behave. Daddy will just have to help you learn."  I wrapped an arm tightly around his body so he couldn't jerk to much. 

"Are you about to fucking spank me!?" He chuckled in disbelief. 

"I told you about your mouth. On stage is one thing, but you aren't going to just keep going around disrespecting everyone and saying such filthy things." My hand came down hard on his left side. He grunted and bucked a little. 

"Fuck man. That hurt. Why do you care?" 

"Maybe I wasn't clear. You don't know what you do to me when we're up there. And then when we're out here. I don't want to hear or see you being such a brat. Do you understand me little one?" I spoke rubbing his ass where I'd just smacked it.

"Little one? What?"

I brought my hand down hard on the right side, he hissed and bucked against me. "Yes little one. You want to act like a child, well..." Three more firm smacks. I felt him getting hard against my legs, instead of bucking away he was now grinding in, trying to get friction. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be such a brat." He whimpered. 

"It's okay, you're going to learn your lesson." I landed five more alternating smacks to his rear, his cock was fully erect beneath him, he was grinding crudely against me, whimpering at each snack.  
"Be still, it will be over soon, maybe then Daddy will give you a treat." 

He calmed himself and braced. Ten more were delivered, mostly so I could get out some of my stage frustration. He struggled to keep still, shifting with every strike. He whimpered and sobbed beneath my hand. Then he said it. Those beautiful words. 

"I'm sorry daddy. Please, I'm good, I'll be a good boy. Please daddy!? No more spanks!" He whimpered our like a child. Took a while but he broke. Faster than I’d expected still. I rubbed the sore flesh and pulled his jeans up. Peppering sweet kisses along his back, I let him up. He rubbed his eyes at me, pouting that sweet pout. 

"Finish getting dressed please." I stated calmly. His cock was achingly hard, I could see it twitch with his heartbeat. He stuffed it into his pants and continued pouting at me. 

"Daddy?" He whispered.

"Yes baby?"

"Are you going to always be my daddy?"

"I'd like to be. You need some structure." 

"I'd like you to be. I don't want anymore spankings though." He said pulling his shirt over his head.

"Is that a hard limit?" I raised a brow at him, wondering why he would have let it happen. He was double my height and stronger than me. He could have easily gotten away at any time. 

"No, I like it some times, but I don't like being punished."

"Then don't be a bad boy."

He sat down shifting a little at the discomfort of his newly reddened ass. "Daddy, will you take care of me?"  
"I will. However, maybe you need to sit with a little need in your cock. Help you understand what you've been doing to me."  I quipped. 

"Please? I didn't know. I'll be good, for now own if I tease you on stage, I'll take care of it off stage." He offered, sliding to his knees.

"That sounds good sweetheart. We don't have time for that right now. They are shutting down."

"Daddy? Will you fuck me like a whore?" He gleamed with lust knowing what he'd just done. I gripped the back of his neck and whispered into his ear as we walked towards the bus.

"Darling, you have no clue what I'm going to do to you." He shuddered, and I noticed the bulge in his pants get a little more defined. He draped his coat over his arm to hide it. He nodded and grinned.

Once we were on the bus I spoke harshly so the others would know not to bother us. "Meeting, the two of us." I heard gasps and murmurs, no doubt they probably thought I was about to quit. I slammed the door to the back room and locked it. 

"Hands and knees pretty slut."

"Yes, Daddy." Marilyn replied dropping to his hands and knees, crawling to be in front of me. That playful devious smirk spread across his face.

"Do you consent to be mine, to be daddies, to be used by daddy, to do what daddy says, to be punished by daddy, to strive to please daddy?"

He looked up at me, sitting up resting on his heels. He took my hand in his and kissed it gently. 

"Yes daddy. I want this. Teach me to be yours?" 

I patted the side of his face with the hand he held. Despite his hands being larger than mine for the moment they felt so soft and small. He looked so sweet and innocent despite the words he'd said before. I wanted to love him, hold him, and for the first night, I decided not to punish him again. 

"I will little one, I will. Daddy will always be here for you. Let's get you tucked in huh."


End file.
